And Snow it Goes...

Unfortunately, the bad winter storms brought us more than just a lot of snow... they also brought us bad news. Despite the surgeon's impression that the nodes he saw during mother's mastectomy appeared normal, the pathology reports indicate there are more cancer cells that need to be removed. She must now undergo an additional surgery the first week of January. She is still having trouble with her blood pressure after last week's surgery, so I am very concerned about her having more anesthesia so soon after. But, we also can't risk allowing the cancer to grow and spread...

Over the weekend, I got the house cleaned and the bills paid. I was actually starting to feel a little less anxious and stressed. "I can do this," I thought. Until Monday came. Cancer is just an ugly little monster. It destroys the body, and constantly invades the mind. Just as I get to feeling strong enough to be strong for my mother, and strong for the family; just as I start to feel confident I can control the urge to cry at the most minute of things... I feel my insides constrict and the all of the air disappears from my lungs.

Why can't it just go away? Why can't we all just get back to simply living and loving? Why couldn't we have gotten news that they got it all? Why can't I get this out of my head? Why am I such a wuss?

Your friends don't know what to say to you and you don't know what to say to them. Family and friends are concerned and want to know the latest news... but sometimes you are just so sick of reliving it every time you give the report that you just want to scream! You don't feel like talking to anybody but you don't want to be alone either. You just want to talk about "normal," happy things... but you don't want to seem like a heartless, self-absorbed bitch either. You're angry. Sad. Scared. This is how crazy cancer makes you feel... .and you don't even have it! How the hell does my MOM feel?! I can't even imagine; and she will never truly tell.

Cancer Sucks

So mom's got cancer. For the second time. I can hardly begin to verbally recreate the onslaught of emotion that transpired over the last three weeks, so I'm settling for a juvenile summation: it sucks.



Monday, we took her for surgery. Because she previously endured extensive radiation with cancer bout #1, she had no choice but to have a mastectomy to combat the spread of disease. I will never never forget how I felt that morning. Seeing her so very vulnerable. Not wanting to fall apart. Drowning in the what-ifs cancer and surgery fill your brain with. Her surgery went well and for a moment I had high hopes that this was going to be as easy as cancer could possibly be. However, the next morning, her blood pressure plummeted to 66/40 and did not stabilize despite intravenous fluids and medication.



Today, she is awaiting lab results to determine whether her blood pressure issues are related to the surgery, or if she has an underlying heart condition that had gone undetected. There is a family history of heart disease and she has had high blood pressure most of her life... so the potential for difficulty is there. Obviously, I'm hoping it's simply the cancer we have to deal with.



Even though I've been down this road with her before, some 15 years ago, this time lends a sense of heaviness on the soul I just can't seem to shake. The twelve hour days at the hospital... the silent worrying... the uncertainty... the struggle to keep the tears from falling in front of her... and the never-ending "whys." Why her? Why now? Why cancer? Why does she have to go through it again!?



Keeping the family together, and keeping myself together was nothing short of exhausting. Thankfully, she got cleared for release, and I was able to get her home right before the roads here became too dangerous to travel. It seems as the proverbial storm calms... the literal winter one comes roaring through!

I was happy to make homemade lasagna tonight for my mother and brother to celebrate her homecoming. I set a nice table, lit the candles and Christmas lights, and let holiday music quietly fill the room. She isn't out of the woods yet, by any means, but she is home. And although we all know she is sick... at least for tonight she was just simply loved.

"Wild" Weekend

Usually when people say they had a "wild weekend" stories involving loud music, booze, and nudity follow that intro. My wild weekend was quite the opposite: it was literally wild!

Late Friday afternoon, after painting two sections of my garage in barely bearable heat, I got into the shower to wash off the paint and sweat before going out to dinner. I turned on the water, stepped in the shower, closed the curtain, and... saw a huge spider scurry swiftly up the curtain! A "normal" response would be to find something to kill it with. I thought it more important to run through the house wet and naked to find my camera and photograph the eight-legged beast! The photo does not do it justice. This spider was one of the biggest I have seen in "real life." A lover of all creatures great and small, I don't typically condone killing anything; not even an ant. However, if something "violates my person" or poses a legitimate threat to my existence, I will consider the kill. (Read mosquitoes!) I tried to send this spider swimming down the drain when I returned to my shower, but he overpowered the current and scampered back up the shower curtain, only this time he was on the other side. Short on time, I chose to shower anyway, all the while just knowing that spider was crawling up my leg, or burrowed into my back.

About five minutes passed between the arrival of my dinner date and the beginning of my "You would not believe the size of this frickin' spider that's in my shower!" story. My "date" and I have known each other for ten years, and I know he does not like spiders at all. I thought he would freak out and refuse to be in my house, but he marched right into the bathroom and demanded I tell him where it was. He grabbed it with a wad of toilet paper and nearly lost the battle as the stubborn spider was fighting to the death! Finally, he flung him into the toilet, and flushed him to his watery grave. I'm not gonna lie... the first time I had to sit on the toilet later that evening, I suspected he might bite my rear!

Fast forward to Saturday.

After sitting with Chester and taking a nap, I settled onto the couch to watch the movie "Ratatouille" on t.v. About a half hour into the movie, I saw a large, dark shadow fly past the corner of my eye. Thinking nothing of it, I continued watching the movie. Soon after, my 15 year-old cat with dementia started leaping all about the dining room and jumped on top of the table. When I stood up to investigate, I was dive-bombed by a giant bat! What the hell!? I quickly tossed the throw blanket I had been curled up with on top of my head and began running around the house like a frantic Muslim woman! I opened both my front doors, hoping it would fly out, but the bat seemed to be mesmerized by the rotation of the ceiling fan and chose to swoop at me in circles instead of going back outside. After apparently growing bored of it's circular flight pattern, it then flew in and out of every room on the lower level of my house. I called up my spider hunter from the night before and listened to him laugh hysterically at my squealing. He lives 25 miles away and was at his friend's house, so driving back over for yet another rescue of the damsel in distress was out of the question.

"Call your brother and tell him to get his ass over then and get that bat." He said.

Ugh. I've lived most of my live proudly not needing a man around. This would make two nights in a row! Granted, I would have survived my scary spider situation just fine and it was coincidence that I had a man coming over to take me to dinner and therefore present to kill the spider. I did go to the garage to get a broom, trying to talk myself into feeling confident that I could remove the bat myself. But, with the door open for over a half an hour now, I had to either act fast, or face the possibility that my house would now be filled with mosquitoes that would feast on my body while I slept; sucking every last drop of blood out of my body. Humbled, I went next door, blanket still atop my head, broom in hand, and fetched my brother.

By this time, the bat had affixed itself to the dining room wall. What a curious site that is! How they can just stick there like that is fascinating, and creepy, at the same time. Without his wingspan, he looked less intimidating, and almost cute. Using a broom and bed sheet, my brother managed to get him off the wall and into a lampshade. We unplugged the lap and took it outside where the bat crawled out and flew away... almost right back into my house!

Yes, folks, that's as wild as I got this weekend! I suppose I have to admit that those concurrent events made me realize that having someone around to help you isn't so bad after all. I remember wondering how late I would have to stay up before the bat finally found the door and flew out. Maybe cohabitation with a man wouldn't be that bad. Maybe it would even be nice! In the meantime, I'll simply have to be grateful that my brother is staying next door and wasn't as chicken as his little sister when it comes to bat removal.

Spinning

Holy hell is there a lot going on! I can't possibly verbalize the abundance of emotions I'm feeling right now. Just the thought of trying to is exhausting! So here's a brief inventory of my current dilemmas:

My 84 year old grandmother is STILL in the hospital. She has congestive heart failure, and lives in California... so visiting her is easier said then paid for.

My cat is doing better for now, but she is in some stage of kidney failure. She's gonna die. Right now, it's just a matter of on who's terms: mine or Jesus'. I'll find out what the vet recommends sometime next week.

The schooling program I have been jumping through hoops for for a year has become nothing more than a serious pain in my ass because the people in charge can't seem to send papers where they should in time. Classes are supposed to start next week. In support of my sanity and happiness... I think I'm going to scratch that plan off the list.

My relationship with Mr. Nice Guy, thankfully, is in a good spot. After a mildly neurotic and seriously awkward (for me) exchange of communications, it has now been officially established that we are an exclusive couple. However, with everything that is going on in my life aside from our new relationship, I'm concerned about him getting lost in the shuffle of my busy mind, thinking I'm a hopeless mess, changing his phone number, and boarding a one-way flight to Tokyo.


I sent a message to my Dad, suggesting that we meet sometime this summer. That was two days ago. I have heard nothing back from him.

My brother moved back to town. He's supposed to be staying at my mom's house, but... well that is a very long story. Let me just say that we are about to have an intervention of sorts, a last ditch effort, to encourage her to finally get her house in order. I'm happy to see him, and thankful for the opportunity to get to know each other as "grown ups," but I also have to take care of myself and have healthy boundaries. Because that is something I haven't quite mastered yet... this whole situation makes me a little nervous.

My new job is great, but there have been some sources of stress. Some are simply part of the natural process of settling into a new career, and others are the result of inefficient operating systems. I also have the reality of potentially losing my job in September, if we don't get much needed grant funding. My wounds are still rather fresh from being without a job for 10 months... so there is a legitimate level of fear associated with this. One thing I know for sure, is that I need to lay off the coffee, get some regular sleep, and make time to eat some damn breakfast!

None of this is more than I can handle. I just wish it wasn't all coming at me at once! I've done a lot of growing as a person, and was finally getting a good handle on the good, the bad, and the ugly that makes me who I am. Chaos is not my friend, so it is critical that I maintain some sort of balance during all of this. I just have to remember to... breathe. It wasn't that long ago that I had nearly given up on happiness. I had actually picked up the pen to write it off. But now that I've found it, and now that I have had some time to appreciate how beautiful inner peace and happiness truly are, I'm going to protect myself, and fight whatever battles are placed in front of me to the death!

Last Day of Hibernation

Just as Spring is slowly approaching here... soon to be busied with bees, blossoming flowers, and slow growing blades of green grass; my life is soon to be busied with three jobs.

My "formal interview" on Friday (the 13th no less) consisted of "Nancy gave me the go-ahead to hire you, you start immediately." Huh? What? Whoa! I envisioned a long, somewhat boring, and tedious question and answer session with the typical hidden-motive psychologically analyzed blah-blah babble that most job interviews consist of. Afterwards, an offer presented, followed by me requesting the weekend to think it over. Funny how life never unfolds the way we wish it to.

My first thought after being arm-twisted into a permanent full-time job with excellent benefits and virtually guaranteed advancement opportunities, was "Carole is going to shit her pants!" Carole is the director I have been working most closely with at my part-time job. Project activity for the organization peaks through April, and the intention of them hiring me was to "prevent Carole from going crazy." I love the people I work with there, and I love the work that I do... but I also love financial stability. This is one of those times where I have to do something I'm not well-practiced in... doing what is best for me.

Crap.

Driving home from my interview Friday, I thought I might vomit on my dashboard! My mind was racing with the "what ifs," "what do I says" and "what are they gonna dos." I can't abandon the part-time job without notice. That's not an option for personal and professional reasons. They have been very good to me, and of course the pay is going to be hard to let go off. My new job has agreed to work around my existing commitments with the part-time job for my training, and may, may, if I'm lucky, allow me to work a four ten hour day work week... if so, I'll try to stay on at my part-time job once a week. I'll still sit with Chester on Saturdays. It's only three hours... and I adore them. I couldn't possibly take that joy away from Virginia. That one is an investment in karma.

So three jobs. Three jobs is the plan. In preparation for my intense week ahead... I've decided to hibernate today. My last day of hibernation. I wonder if bears are aware of their last day in the cave... and if they dread the busy days that await them? I'm going to have to learn a new job, new co-worker personalities, new on the way to work traffic patterns, fill out more tax forms... quit my beloved afternoon ceramics, figure out whether or not to still pursue the free tuition and schooling; have a painful discussion with my part-time job and negotiate a way to stay on with them... and hope that I am making the right decisions. I barely had enough time to adjust to the job I have... and now I've thrown another one into the mix.

What I just can't seem to accept yet, nor really celebrate, is the fact that in just a month or so... my financial stress may very well be over. I might actually be able to think about the future, instead of obsessing about how to make the most of $14 in food stamps so I can pay my heat bill. It still hasn't sunk in that I have the part-time job. How can I expect this to sink in?

"For all I know, they could say 'We were just kidding!' when I get to work on Monday morning." I told Virginia and her daughter on Saturday. Not very optimistic, I know, but I'm sure everyone can agree that these are very uncertain times in life. Realistic. I'm being realistic. And doubtful. Skeptical. Whatever non-believing adjectives you choose...

What I can do, is take it easy this last day. The last day of which I am certain about the goings on in my life. If I would have known they were going to throw the job at me on Friday... I might have planned some big to-do... a last hurrah before I jump into a three job, six day work week. It's been over four years since I have taken a vacation, and a solid year since affording one has even been remotely possible. It's going to pay off right?

Back to the "cave" of comforters, snacks, and semi-bad Sunday movies...

Witness Protection Program

Help! I'm not sure that I'm ready for that big, bad world that so quickly forgot about me for the past ten months. A former "people person," I now find mingling amongst masses of homosapiens almost uncomfortable! I feel exposed; vulnerable; like a person in the Witness Protection Program that just got spotted in the produce aisle in Arkansas.


It is in fact a small world after all... but the world inside my house is even smaller. And definitely more predictable... more comfortable... less demanding. However, I failed to find a miraculous way to support my lone existence without leaving the safety of my humble home... and my brain tricked me into believing that if I didn't find a job soon, I would somehow feel unfulfilled...

So here I am... working. Voyaging through the world of the "normal" people, wondering who knows I've lived the life of a sloth for months on end... wondering if unemployment has visibly damaged me; nipped away my sense of value and competence. My "oh my God I have a job!" feelings are becoming lost in this sea of doubt... fear of failure... insecurity.

My world is shrinking all around me! I keep running into people I haven't seen in years, having to rehash my circumstances with each encounter. That I have a job, but it's temporary part-time, that I graduated, but I'm going back to school... I just don't know when... I have to constantly relive the frustrating uncertainty and instability of life in today's economy each time I explain "what's going on." I ran into my high school friend's father this morning, a friend of a guy I dated (but shouldn't have) in my 20's in the hallway at work ... the tenant of an apartment I remodelled is asking me out (I think), my ex that will never be "serious material" is back in town... Nothing truly complicated, but I'm used to just having an occassional conversation with my cat, not trying to explain my 10 months in hell without sounding pessimistic. Shit. Did I just admit that?

Anyway... I love my job. I like the people, I really like the pay... it's a seven minute drive from my house... and it has a purpose. But, it's temporary part-time until the end of April... at which time they may or may not offer me a permanent position, and if they do, it will likely be part-time. If it's the same amount of hours I have now, I can live off of that... and hope for more hours in the future; while still taking my ceramics classes, and returning to school.

NOW... I just got a call for a call-back interview at a new business that is opening in the late summer. There are 1,500 positions available... and already over 20,000 have applied. So this is a BIG DEAL. My interview is tomorrow at 3:30, after a day of work. Not ideal for me, but, at least I don't have enough time to overthink it and start freaking out. I'm already jumping the gun and trying to decide which job is the best fit for me. Rather silly, since I don't have a solid offer of permanent employment from either place. This is what the economy, unemployment, and living on a literal prayer does to your mind... I'm a friggin' mess! I AM already freaking out.

I suppose the good news is that I sprung for some new shoes and a few "businessy" wardrobe items... so at least I won't LOOK like a dishelved, neurotic desperado. And, I suppose that the worst that could happen is that I have a choice in which job to accept. The source of my paranoia, perhaps, is a fear of losing the person I most recently found; sacrificing the joy of truly being who I am, for the much -needed security of a reliable and sustainable income.

To be continued...

Testy Telethon?

STILL...
UP.

Oh... Mona, Mona, Mona.

I'm pretty drained and looking a bit disheveled, but I have certainly used my time wisely. I've been on the phone with my cell phone company, mortgage company, electric company, gas company, unemployment office, the local college, my assistance case worker... all in the name of survival! I'm swallowing my pride and applying for any and all types of assistance available to me, in preparation for a long, hard, winter. And, the worse case scenario: no job, and no unemployment benefits at the beginning of frosty February.

I pray to God I don't get to that point.

I'm hoping that all of this ground work will take a bit of the edge off of the financial fear that often keeps me awake at night. Every last person I spoke with had a tone of true concern and sympathy in their voice. In the midst of menstrual hormone hell, I shockingly only choked up a couple times. However, when I spoke with my mother, I couldn't hold it back any longer, and I think I even said "fuckin'." All of this stress and frustration pressurizes at the bottled-up bottleneck, putting a definable discomfort around my heart. I don't want to cry about it... but I can't let it all just build up, either. One of these days, I will accept that it is okay to cry. Right?


This has been a powerful and painful lesson. I am FORCED to ask for help. Something I could not and would not do willingly in the past. If I do not ask for, nor accept help, I will be cowardly forfeiting all that I've worked for. Throwing in the towel on myself. A few years ago, I may have done just that.

Now? I refuse.

Holed-up. Wait a Minute!

I'm still up.

Figured I'd tackle a few financial fiascoes this morning. One being my cell phone bill, which has doubled due to text messages sent to me from Ireland. Apparently, whether I read them or not, I still get charged the 20 cents. Once I received that information, I sent an urgent plea to the Irishman to place a cease-fire on my financial well-being and chill with the text messages. I can't afford an increases in costs. Unemployment does not offer raises!

I'm now eagerly awaiting the arrival of 9 a.m. My mortgage lender office does not open until then. I need to find out why my payment is suddenly $40 more this month, and if this is a permanent increase. Again, with the bone-chilling winter snow steadily on its way, bringing with it ENORMOUS heating bills... I can NOT afford my other bills to increase as well.

In need of bird seed, yet again, I am tempted to put a plea out for a donation of wild bird seed on Craig's List. This is not a good time of year to "cut them off," as they are likely to perish in the winter without my provided sustenance. These birds sometimes go through 40 pounds of seed in seven days: approximately $70 a month! Being one that never asks for help, I'm not sure that I will go through with it, but the thought has been on my mind the last two days. I'm in the HOLE! Thankfully, not too deeply yet, but new solutions must be found immediately to prevent me from being swallowed up by it!

The Cold War

Poverty sucks! It is literally a cold-hearted condition! In an attempt to keep the bills I'm already having trouble paying from getting any higher... I've resorted to using some space heaters to keep the house slightly above freezing. Well, they aren't very effective. My outfit sure is "HOT" though: full-length wool socks, sweatpants, a long-sleeve T, short-sleeve T, and a hooded sweatshirt. All in various "uplifting" shades of gray.

Sleeping has been difficult the past few days. Only caught an hour Sunday before I cleaned an entire house on an empty stomach. So today was a waste, unless I was registered for the Guinness Book of World Records most sleep in one day title. I did write up a "schedule" for myself last night. Something to make me feel a little more purposeful and directed.

I'm into my seventh month of this... and it is shear hell. I hate it. You are fighting to pay your bills. Fighting to hang on to your pride. Fighting to live with purpose. Fighting to keep your "chin up." Fighting to find a job. Fighting the urge to give up. Fighting to keep warm. Fighting to get out of bed...

I did pick up the guitar tonight. Strummed the G chord a bit. My fingers went into the proper position much easier than yesterday! Looked up some other chords on the computer, but didn't find anything I felt I could learn without picking up potential mistakes. Can't be a bad thing to get used to the feel of handling the guitar and strumming it. I played around with lifting and replacing my fingers while strumming. I'll surely have at least one more supervised lesson this week. I have two chairs in the garage I was going to sell for cash, but, my friend made a comment that my empty upstairs bedroom would make a good "jam room." Maybe I'll keep them for now and haul them up there.

I'll be back in the unemployment office on Thursday to check the status of my extension paperwork. I'm hoping to be able to meet with the case worker in charge of the "OJT" program. I don't have time to worry about tuition and more schooling. I NEED a job. Yesterday!

From Zero to Funky...

Wow. I went from zero to funky in a mere 12 hours. Back to Funkytown I go. I had a nice, productive evening Thursday at the publishing workshop. But something happened in my crazy little brain while I slept... and it wasn't good.

I woke up feeling listless. Lethargic. Lonely. Empty. Exhausted. I don't know if it's the coldness of my house, or the pressures that I'm facing, but I was feeling a need to hide in the safety and warmth of my bed... for days!

There was a local "Fall Into The Arts" event downtown. I had been excited to go! Anxious to participate in a cultural activity in this stifled city. What happened to that? In fact, I was close to ditching my friend that planned on going with me. But, after deciding I would simply disgust myself by staying home for no good and definable reason, I got out of bed and hit the shower.

Mr. Irishman called. He had been calling all day. Wondering why I disappeared from our chat conversation last night. I didn't want to answer, my friend was on the way. I was fighting tears. Not wanting to honestly discuss how I felt and then have to explain it all again when I greeted my friend with streams of sadness running down my face.

I hate being negative! But, I'm facing some seriously negative shit! So I'm bottling it all up. And when I've actually reached out to friends to talk about it, they are always too damned busy. I hate that too! What's a girl to do?

I'm home now. Bundled up in dreary brown sweats to keep warm. Feeling funky, frumpy, and oddly frisky. Where's everybody at? Why am I not in bed? What the hell is wrong with me? Me. That's what's wrong! If only I could have one of those out-of-body experiences and transform into some blissfully ignorant blonde bimbos at the Playboy mansion or something. Anything. I need an escape. An emotional retreat.

Martha's funeral is tomorrow. And I'm not going. I feel terrible about it, but I am not comfortable with going there alone. Well, I am, it's the drive back that I fear would not be wise. I've simply got too much emotional shit going on to comfortably drive over two hours when I'm riddled with stress and sadness.

Please, please, please let something turn around soon. FAST!

The Empty Chair...

I have sat here... in this same... old... hard... cold...

uncomforting, uncomfortable chair... for twelve hours. Half a day. A lifetime. Lifetime of feelings. Conversations. Words. Said. And unspoken...

And

I

Am...

Mourning. Frustrated. Sad. Hopeful. Desperate. Needy. Full. Empty...

All at once. And...

All

Alone.

In this empty chair...

A. Fucked. Up. Mess.

The defintion of a fucked up mess... according to Webster:

A: "from beginning to end; completely; exhaustively"

Fucked: "great, malicious, unfairness"

Up: "as a virtually meaningless element added, esp. colloquially, to almost any verb"

Mess: "6 a) a state of embarrassment, trouble, difficulty, a person in either of these states 2. to make a mess of; specif., to make dirty, soiled, or untidy; also, to bungle; muddle; botch: often with up

What. Have I done. Do I do...

Reprieve from anger...

Finally at least one bit of news I can mostly agree with...

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080924/ap_on_bi_ge/financial_meltdown

Madam Butterfly

Forgive me for my inability to sort through my brain and focus on posting juicy bits for my beloved readers!

Truth is I am experiencing wealth of emotions... suspended and spinning like a spider from a branch in the wind. As much as I feel committed to the next direction I'm going to take in my "career" life... I have to be honest and say that a little fear has settled in. Have you ever wanted something so bad... and then been equally afraid when you are about to get it? It took an academic counselor at the community college to bring this "fear of Failure" I have to my attention. Now, this took place a good 10 years ago, so I'm afraid my progress in overcoming it is minimal. I've had just about every opportunity I've ever wanted present itself to me... and then somehow managed to run swiftly away from it without being consciously aware of why I was running and where I was running to.

So here I am. Hanging up my running shoes. Without a job, and little money to my name... but an enormity of freedom to pursue my dreams of honoring my creative soul, my only "genius," my only true love... more and more feeling a driving force within telling me to "Go for it!" I may not be as honorable as Jewel and living out of a van... but I've plucked myself clean of meaningless "luxuries" and have just my meager living expenses to tend to. When will this chance come again in my life? Almost every great story about an artist of some form or the other involves a time of struggle and famine. I'm there! So, this is the next logical step... right? Taking that chance. A chance on me. A chance on doing what I've always dreamed of?

Don't think me foolish! I don't expect, nor truthfully care, to be a billion-dollar creative empire. I just want to be me. And being me shouldn't be so scary, now should it? It shouldn't be difficult, crazy, or unwise. It should be the obvious choice.

I'm an absolute "butterfly effect" junkie. Addicted to the beauty of the transformation of people, places and things. Why haven't I allowed myself to blossom, bend and bloom? Can I muster up the courage to come out of my cocoon and spread my wings... to land where life says I should? Give myself permission to be what I am... who I am... without a care in the world of the outcome, or who is standing beside me at the end of my flight?

Momma Knows Best?

So last night... I talked to my mother about what I might do. What everything and everyone is directing me to do. And she was a bit skeptical. But, that's her job, isn't it? We debated, in a friendly way, back and forth for a few minutes, and I think I "won" when I said, "Well if I take a 40-50 hour a week job that I don't truly want in the first place, and go back to school for something that I don't truly want to do... then I am right back where I have been for the last 36 years. That would leave me no time to continue exploring what it took me this long to realize I should be doing."

Lemon Yellowy Rise

The Sun is rising a beautiful, bright, lemon yellowy rise...

And mad, mad, Mona is STILL awake.

For preventative measures (and the fact that Saturday morning TV sucks), I have taken an 800 ibuprofen to assist in my acquisition of drowsiness and/or sleep.

Last night was the most consecutive time I have spent doing something that I enjoy in months. Perhaps, I'm overstimulated? Not wanting it to end? Clinging on to it before it becomes lost in the fuzzy funk my mind can often wallow and linger in?

Freeze

Just got off the phone with my caseworker for DHS. She was following up our visit last week.

"You are allotted $10 a month. I know that isn't much, but it will help."

"And I appreciate any help I receive. I'm doing everything I can to change this and I'm grateful that I have never been in this position before. What about health insurance premiums? Do those count? I noticed a sign-up event for health care... should I be looking into that?" I ask.

"Well, you don't have any kids and you are single. There is a freeze on the program that would help you. The state simply doesn't have any more money to fund it."

Looks like if I don't find a job, I might have to get myself knocked up. What is going on!?!? I'm currently paying $94 a month for a health and dental insurance plan. I bought the coverage less than 30 days before I lost my job... not knowing I was going to lose it of course. Do I risk not having insurance to save that money?

"Didn't you say your unemployment is about to run out?" Asks my caseworker.

"Yes, I have eight weeks left."

"Well in the event that that happens, your food allowance will go up."

Really? Well, I'll be buying ready to eat food if that happens because I'll be losing my house and won't have a kitchen to store or prepare food in!

Dollar Bills and Sleeping Pills

Someone please put me out of my misery! I beg of you...

Mona's mad mad mind has been reeling all night. Spinning. Twirling. Buzzing. If I don't get some sleep soon, I'm going to have bags the size of suitcases under my eyes. Whose gonna want the old bag with bags!! Shit, the airlines would charge me $50 extra for each eye... Truth is I'm riddled with anxiety. I haven't been able to say that outloud yet (and in reality, I still haven't). I, Mona Lake, lost my job with a small company at the end of April and have been job-searching ever since. I just emptied my savings account to pay my ridiculous tuition for my LAST class until I finally... finally, finish my Bachelor's Degree. I am facing the fear of being broke, the fear of graduating (dumb, yes... but I do dumb things), finding a new job and starting over, the fear of growing old alone, and currently: the fear of never sleeping again. I have only the seat of my pants, and my secret hundred dollar bill to cling to...